


The Sex Tape

by anastasiiya



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Bottom!Napoleon, M/M, PWP, Shameless Smut, Top!Illya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 02:45:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4770569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasiiya/pseuds/anastasiiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A first time fic set after the movie scene when Illya goes up to Napoleon's room to retrieve the tape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sex Tape

“Napoleon.” Illya breathes my name against my neck. “Napoleon.”

“Yeah?” I’m a bit preoccupied. Fucking finally this beautiful blond is in my bed and I can touch him. His abs feel as good as they look. I want to touch his torso forever.

“Napoleon.” Our shirts are off and my trousers are God knows where. His fly is down and there’s an obvious bulge in his pants that’s making me horny. I let my hands slide down those abs (those abs, I’m dying) to pull at his pants.

I pull so hard I drag him down on top of me—let me be clear, I’m not complaining. I moan and squirm and my hands go to his shoulders.

“Peril, c’mon.” I breathe. “Pants gone. Briefs gone.”

“Impatient.” He huffs, tugging at my briefs. 

I lift my hips so he can tug the last of my clothing off. I grin cheekily and he rolls his eyes.

“You too?”

“Hmm.” He murmurs in response, shoving my hands away. He takes one hand and runs it over my stomach, and it’s just slightly too high…!

“Peril, lower.”

“Okay.” He replies, but he’s playing with my nipples as my hands comb through his hair. And then we’re kissing again, but not the polite kind. I’m not sure we’ll ever stop fighting.

I roll us over so I’m on my knees, straddling a half-dressed Russian. He’s really hot. Damn.

“Fuck,” is what I manage to say. “I want you.”

“Hmm.” He eyes me, watching me tug at my cock. He bites his lip. “I haven’t…”

I pause, hand still on my dick and my eyes widening. “Wait, you haven’t?”

“With a man.” He elaborates. I tug my dick a few more times and watch him watch me.

“Peril.” I moan. “Do you know what I want?”

One of his hands grabs my ass and the other behind my thigh. He tugs and I fall forward. My arms fall beside his face. I can’t help it; I have to kiss him again.

I pull away from the kiss and moan into his ear.

“I want you to fuck me.”

He hisses, hands running across my skin.

“I want you to watch me fuck myself. I want your fingers. And your cock.” I continue. “I want it hard. I want—“

“Enough of what you want.” Illya rolls us over again, and reaches for the lube. “Handle it.”

I hold out my hand and he gives us each a squeeze. I spread the lube around on my fingers. I’ve already worked two fingers in my ass when he stops watching me and pulls out his cock. He’s big, probably the biggest dick I’ve had yet. 

“Oh.” I’m just staring at it. It’s worth a stare.

“You like?” He smirks at me. “You want?”

“Yeah.” Third finger in and I’m starting to work my prostate. It’s good. I close my eyes and hum.

“You are… enjoying too much.”

“Fuck off.” I moan, and then he pulls my hand away and immediately one of his fingers slides inside to take over.

“Illya.” It’s said more like a prayer. He chuckles. I open my eyes and he’s looming above me, but I’m not threatened. I shift and spread my legs a bit wider and he’s watching me with a bewildered expression. And then he finds my prostate.

“Oh fuck yeah.” I immediately toss my head back. “Illya, that’s good.”

He adds another finger, and another, and I’m a big pile of mess in a matter of minutes. I’m gripping his shoulders and grinding down on his hand and thankfully I’ve not been reducing to begging. He’s working me good, one hand up ass and the other jerking me off, his face pressed against the juncture of my neck. He’s saying shit in Russian but I can’t be bothered to translate it right now. I’m busy.

“Illya.” I whine. “Illya, close.”

He lifts his head and eyes my flushed face with a small smile. “Good?”

“I want you.” I reply. His fingers slide out and finally I’m going to get his dick. He pushes in and it’s so much wider than anyone I’ve had before (although there was this one domme and a black toy… well, maybe that’s a story for another day). 

He’s above me, and I heft my feet to wrap his waist. He looks at me and I raise a brow.

“Fuck me.”

“Hmm.” He shrugs. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

He fucks me good. I thought I was incoherent before. He slams into me over and over and I grab his arms and brace myself, I grind up into each slam and writhe as the head of his dick rubs over my prostate. 

I’m usually not vocal, but I am for Illya. 

I usually last awhile, but I don’t for Illya.

He makes me orgasm so hard and I’m shuddering in his arms as he grunts and spills into me, and then he’s a sweaty mess on top of my sweaty mess.

“Holy shit.” I compliment. “God damn.”

“Not bad.” He replies, cheeky bastard. I bite his ear and he growls at me, and before you know it we’re spewing nasty epithets while he’s limp inside me.

“What are we going to do with the disc?” I finally end our banter, looking down at Illya’s face where he’s resting on my chest.

“Hmm.” He frowns. “I am to kill you for it.”

“La petite mort?”

He rolls his eyes at me. “No, cowboy.”

“Ah, what a shame.” I reply. “I need the disc, too.”

“Hmm.”

“…We should destroy it.”

“Yes.”

I’m combing my fingers through his hair and he’s watching me. God, those eyes. 

“In the morning?”

“In the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> xoxo


End file.
